


The International Space Station and the Hong Kong Cavaliers

by Fabrisse



Category: The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across The 8th Dimension (1984)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 01:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5477654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New Jersey has a little difficulty adjusting to the Cavaliers.  All it takes is one particular brain surgery to help him adjust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The International Space Station and the Hong Kong Cavaliers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelheadedhipster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelheadedhipster/gifts).



> Rawhide's out of stasis and back among the group.

Everyone thinks the hard part is getting the invite, being asked to become a Cavalier. No one with just one talent is recruited, and we all keep learning so we can keep up with the boss.

But see, that's not the hard part. Anyone who can play an instrument well and has an advanced degree in one of the complementary skills (hard sciences or engineering, for preference) might get a chance to be one of us. It's the after that's tough. We work together more than we ever work with Buckaroo directly. If one of us doesn't adjust well, then none of us are doing our best.

***  
The gig was Montreux. Buckaroo was so damn excited when we got the invitation, that he nearly didn't check the schedule. Fortunately, Perfect Tommy was there to catch it, and, once he understood how important this date was to our music career, he rearranged the calendar perfectly so that we had nearly six weeks in Switzerland. 

One surgery a week was scheduled during that time, each was a high risk and all of them were _pro bono_ whether it was because a Blue Blaze Irregular donated the cost of the operation or whether it was on the Cavaliers dime. 

Charity is important to Buckaroo. As he says, "Without your brain, who are you?" 

(Pecos took that as her meditation focus for nearly a year. I still remember the smile she gave Reno when she stopped.)

New Jersey came to Tommy and me, frustrated by what he saw as a blank schedule. "We could do at least twice that many operations. I know the hospitals would let us have the space. The publicity…"

"Buckaroo doesn't need publicity," Tommy said.

"For the hospitals," New Jersey said, "The good publicity for the hospitals. And there's this young girl in France, not too far from Geneva who needs…"

Tommy looked at him. "Buckaroo said to schedule six."

New Jersey nodded tightly and stalked off, back to the bunkhouse.

"Is he going to be trouble?" Tommy asked.

"Don't think so. But Tommy, look up the case on the girl in France he's talking about for me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm curious. And let me know if there are any others in that area. Not normal surgeries, the high risk kind the Boss and New Jersey specialize in."

"You got it, Rawhide. An hour?"

"That'd be perfect, Tommy."

***  
I didn't hear from Buckaroo again for nearly a week. His experiments at the space station were taking him longer than he'd originally thought.

Imagine my surprise when NASA called me at two a.m. to ask three of us to come to Cape Canaveral as soon as we could. I called Mrs. Johnson at the main house and asked her to check the chatter from Buckaroo. Sure enough, there was three pages of data that must've come in when she was joining our weekly Scrabble game. She got the data to us quickly, had the small jet fueled, and handed us two boxes of homemade cookies. "Now that second one's for the astronauts, you hear?"

I kissed her cheek. "We hear, Mrs. Johnson." She was the best house mother an eclectic group like the Cavaliers could have. 

The mission specialist at NASA greeted the plane and got us out to the facilities as quickly as he could. We were taken into the control room, and Buckaroo's face was on the screen talking to some of the people back home. He smiled when he saw us and said, "When can you get here?"

I turned to the mission commander. He said, "Tomorrow. We've borrowed back the Space Shuttle from Virginia for this one."

Buckaroo's face turned grave. "I think that's a wise decision, sir."

Tommy shook his head, "Should've brought Reno. He'd be the best pilot for this one."

"Didn't all the Cavaliers come?" Buckaroo asked.

"NASA only requested the three of us."

"The deuce you say." Buckaroo turned to the mission commander. "Why not all of them?"

"Oxygen issues. We can't afford to send all three of these men up, either. There just isn't enough oxygen for more than two before we can get more tanks to the station."

Buckaroo said, "Tommy is right. Reno would've been the best shuttle pilot."

The mission commander said, "We have pilots."

I'm sure the man caught Tommy's "Not as good as Reno," but chose to ignore it.

Buckaroo said, "New Jersey, you read the data I sent?"

"Yes, as long as we can get the equipment there or adapt what you already have, this should be pretty straightforward -- for brain surgery."

Buckaroo said, "Rawhide, you'll be coming, too."

"Figured, boss. I brought the improved oxygen scrubber that Reno and Pecos designed and I've worked out a couple of pulley systems which should keep our Brazilian astronaut in the right position for her surgery."

"And the obsidian scalpel?"

"I have two tucked away in my back pocket, boss, next to the laser bone saw."

Lastly, he turned to Perfect Tommy. "You'll be the face of this operation, providing data to the press. I know it's usually Rawhide's job, but…"

"But he'll be up there with you. I've designed a velcro holder for the surgical instruments. They should have two of them ready for tomorrow. There's no autoclave possible in space: the water pressure doesn't let it get hot enough, but I've put together a small ultraviolet unit which should work without draining the Space Station's batteries."

"Perfect as always."

The mission controller said, "We'll be sending up Purell for your hands."

I saw Tommy make a note. We'd have the sterilizing liquid Pecos' designed two years ago with us when that shuttle took off tomorrow, I just knew it.

***  
The knock on my door was soft and timed just right. I'd completed my nightly meditation. New Jersey was standing there in his pajamas.

"Do you have the new connector ready yet?"

"Sure, doc, the one for capillaries, right?" 

He nodded. "I came out of my evening meditation with an idea on how to use it to excise the clot with minimal blood. Can't do much about where we're cutting the scalp, of course, but…"

"You'll be saving that girl's life, doc. You read the data, if she re-enters the atmosphere with that clot, best case scenario is a catastrophic stroke. Death is more likely."

"I know. It's just. I'm going into space. I'm the only one who could do the surgery with Buckaroo, so I'm going into space."

"Scared, New Jersey?"

"A little. It's still easier than facing Red Lectroids, though. You know, they told me downstairs that I was too tall for a shuttle seat."

"Me, too. We'll use the surgical rig to hold us in place until we get out of the atmosphere."

New Jersey looked at me. "I haven't been an easy bunkmate, have I?"

"I've been with Buckaroo since MIT. I can tell you that we've had worse, far worse, along the way. You just needed to know you're needed, and a mission like this fixes that."

New Jersey said, "Yeah, it does." There was a long pause. "About Switzerland."

"I checked. Your French girl and one other surgery has been added to the schedule. It's not the twelve you wanted, but…"

"Thank you."

I smiled. "To save you the trouble of not asking, the answer is CERN. Professor Brian Cox is a Blue Blaze Irregular. He noticed some atmospheric phenomena that may track to the creation of Higgs Bosons. He asked Buckaroo and me to have a look since we'd be in the neighborhood."

"Good. That gives me a chance to check out Giesbach Falls. I always wanted to see it." He patted my shoulder. "We should get some sleep."

"Not sure I can without Pecos snoring next to Reno."

***  
The next morning, bright and early, Perfect Tommy began the countdown in our ear. We were going to the ISS to perform the first brain surgery in space. 

It may just be a normal day for a Hong Kong Cavalier, but I can tell you, not one of us takes it for granted.


End file.
